


This is How I (Dis)Appear

by KoraKwidditch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Blaise Zabini is a hottie mcthottie, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Good Blaise Zabini, Good Slytherins, Height Differences, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Minor Luna Lovegood/Ron Weasley, Mutual Pining, POV Harry Potter, Smol Harry Potter, stopping what you're doing just to kiss them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28249623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoraKwidditch/pseuds/KoraKwidditch
Summary: Harry loved Blaise, and then he disappeared.Then he showed up to the Burrow for Christmas.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 8
Kudos: 115
Collections: Hermione’s Nook Kissmas





	This is How I (Dis)Appear

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Hermione's Nook Kissmas Fest! 
> 
> My prompt was: Stop what you're doing just to kiss them
> 
> Thank you to TriDogMom for betaing <3

** This is How I (Dis)Appear **

Harry smiled as he watched his friends and surrogate family from his place at the doorway. The flight there had been cold, but much needed; his job as Head Auror didn’t allow him much time for flying anymore. 

“Harry!” Molly greeted, pulling him into a crushing hug. “Happy Christmas, dear. Did you fly here in this weather? Merlin the state of you—” 

Molly continued to prattle on about his appearance, brushing the snow from his jacket and attempting to fix his unruly hair. After a few swipes through the thick raven locks, she gave up as the rest of the Weasley’s came to greet him. 

Oliver Wood, Ginny’s long-time boyfriend, inspected Harry’s new broom with a low whistle. He and Ginny began to date after she joined the Harpies. Oliver was the assistant team manager, and they quickly bonded over their love of the game. 

Harry was happy for them; Ginny hadn’t taken his coming out during eighth-year well. She came around eventually, but their friendship wasn’t like it had been.

“This the new Firebolt? How does she handle?” Oliver asked as he looked over the handle. 

Harry smiled at Oliver, “Take it for a spin.” 

Oliver’s eyes lit up, and he clapped Harry once on the shoulder while Ginny gave him a grateful smile, and they both went outside to test the new broom. 

“Hey mate,” Ron greeted, pulling Harry into a hug as tight as his mothers. “Draco and Hermione should be here soon.” 

“Oh, don’t forget Draco’s guest!” Molly piped up, flicking her wand at the pot boiling on the stovetop. 

Harry arched a brow at Ron, “Draco’s guest?” 

Ron only shrugged in reply as Luna entered the room, giving a much gentler hug than Molly and Ron had. 

“Happy Christmas, Harry,” Luna said in her sing-song voice. “You seem to be glowing brighter today.” 

“Thanks, Luna. Happy Christmas,” Harry replied, unphased by her comments. Luna and Ron had married last year after dating since graduation. The more time Harry spent with her, the more he was able to understand her odd comments. Glowing was usually a good sign. 

  
  


“Fred and I are taking bets on who it is,” George greeted. “Mum won’t give anything away. Ten galleons on Theodore Nott for me.” 

Fred shook his head next to his twin, “Not likely, Georgie. It’s definitely going to be Blaise Zabini.” 

Harry’s stomach flipped. He hadn’t heard that name in years. 

“I thought Zabini had moved to Italy.” 

Fred shook his head at Harry, “According to Witch Weekly, the tosser came back about a month ago after his mum died. The bloody magazine did a whole spread on how he’s the most eligible wizard now that Malfoy and Hermione are married.”

“What’re you reading that shite for?” Ron asked, narrowing his eyes at a grinning Fred.

“How else will I know when they name  _ me  _ the most eligible bachelor?”

Ron and the twins began to bicker, but Harry barely paid them any mind. His thoughts were still reeling at the possibility of seeing Blaise—the only man he ever loved. 

* * *

_ Harry sighed at his table in the library as he stared at his Alchemy textbook. Why was he even here? The Ministry had offered him an Auror job right after the war. He didn’t need his N.E.W.T.s; he didn’t need to finish his schooling. But Hermione had insisted he and Ron join her, and the thought of spending a Voldemort-free year at Hogwarts was too good to pass up.  _

_ Harry accepted when he realised he had never had a typical school year. So, the trio had spent the summer helping rebuild the school, and in September they walked through the doors as eighth-year students.  _

_ Now, back from the holiday break, Harry wanted to tear his hair out.  _

_ “Hey, Potter.”  _

_ Harry glanced up at the deep voice that greeted him. He knew it well; it haunted his dreams nightly. “Hey, Zabini.” _

_ Blaise sat across from him, his long legs invading Harry’s personal space beneath the table. He took a glance at the textbook on the table and arched a perfect brow. “Having trouble with Alchemy?”  _

_ Harry snapped the book closed, “I’ll figure it out. Maybe ask Hermione for help.”  _

_ Blaise grinned and clasped his hands together atop the table, leaning forward to whisper to Harry. “I wouldn’t bet on getting help from her anytime soon. I have reason to believe she is... a bit busy at the moment.”  _

_ “With what?” Harry asked in confusion. What could Hermione possibly be busy with that she wouldn’t want to tutor him? She always helped him; Harry secretly thought she enjoyed it, even if she always made a fuss.  _

_ Blaise leant even closer, and Harry felt his face heat at their close proximity. Luckily the library was empty except for them; Harry briefly thought someone might find their closeness odd. Their friendship, however, was old news. Shortly after returning to Hogwarts, Draco had struck up a friendship with Harry, and the rest of the Slytherins quickly followed. Harry always assumed it was his way of trying to repay debts—both he and Hermione had spoken for the Malfoy’s at their trials.  _

_ He and Blaise were closer than the rest. They both bonded over their love of Quidditch and regularly practised together. Harry had always assumed Blaise was arrogant and withdrawn, but soon he came to realise that, while Blaise was certainly more refined than his peers, he was also enjoyable to be around.  _

_ At some point, the friendship had turned to something more, though entirely one-sided. Harry began to notice how attractive Blaise was; how his voice could always be picked out in a crowd; how Harry always sought him during class. Harry didn’t even realise he liked the man until Blaise kissed his cheek one night in a drunken stupor. _

_ Harry was afraid of his feelings at first, but then he spoke to Arthur over the Christmas holiday, and everything began to make sense. He preferred men. It was as simple as that.  _

_ Ginny hadn’t taken the news quite so well as Hermione and Ron. Currently, she wasn’t speaking to him, and Harry didn’t blame her. She had been in love with him since they were children, and he was sure she thought they would get married. Now all that was gone.  _

_ No one else knew of his sexuality, however. Even with Ginny hating him, she at least kept his secret. The Daily Prophet already ran a front-page article on their break up, who knew what they would do if they found out he liked men.  _

_ The grin on Blaise’s face stretched, “I’m afraid I can’t tell you unless you offer me something in return.”  _

_ “Oh come off it, Zabini,” Harry retorted, rolling his eyes. Damned Slytherins. “What do you want?”  _

_ Blaise’s knee brushed against the outside of Harry’s thigh, sending a wave of heat across his body. Harry attempted to shift away, but that only caused him to hit the other knee. Blaise had him trapped between his legs. _

_ “Come out drinking with me tonight,” Blaise said with a smirk. _

_ Harry flushed as the memory of what happened last time they drank together ran through his mind. “I still have to write my Alchemy paper—”  _

_ “I’ll help you with your Alchemy,  _ **_and_ ** _ tell you what I know about Granger,” Blaise interrupted. “Come on; I haven’t seen you for two weeks. We need to catch up.”  _

_ A thrill ran through him to know that Blaise may have missed Harry as much as Harry had missed him. And he knew there wasn’t a point in arguing with a Slytherin.  _

_ “Alright.”  _

_ Later that night, Harry sat in The Three Broomsticks, the place filled with classmates. He sipped the large butterbeer in front of him, waving hello to various people. Blaise sat across from him, again his legs invading Harry’s space, sipping a glass of firewhisky. They had both said very little since arriving, and his dark eyes burned into Harry.  _

_ “How was your holiday?” Harry asked in an attempt to break the awkward silence.  _

_ Blaise shrugged and took a hefty gulp of his drink. “My mother is sick and can’t travel. Even the healers have said Apparition and Floo could worsen her condition. I went to visit her in Italy and...”  _

_ Blaise trailed off, downing his drink and swiftly standing. “I’ll get the next round.”  _

_ Harry stared after him as he wove through the crowd to Rosmerta. Obviously, that was a sensitive subject, and Harry felt for him. He knew what it was like to lose loved ones.  _

_ Blaise came back after a few minutes with two large glasses of firewhisky. Harry furrowed his brow as Blaise placed one of the drinks in front of him. “Zabini, I don’t like firewhisky. Butterbeer is perfectly fine—”  _

_ “Then I’ll drink both,” Blaise said, grabbing both glasses. He downed the contents of the first in one gulp.  _

_ Harry blinked. Usually, Blaise was so put together and sophisticated, but something seemed to be off. “Are you alright?”  _

_ Blaise swirled his finger around the edge of his glass, and Harry watched the long digit trace it. He flickered his gaze back up to find dark eyes watching him.  _

_ “You haven’t asked me about Granger yet.” _

_ Harry shrugged and took a sip of his butterbeer. “I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”  _

_ Blaise downed the second glass and set it gently back to the table. “She and Draco are shagging.”  _

_ Harry choked on his next sip. He coughed loudly and tried to right his lungs. “What? Are you mad?”  _

_ “Is there something wrong with them being together?” Blaise’s tone cut through Harry—never had he sounded like that.  _

_ “N-no.” Harry quickly said, “No, just I never imagined them to be... I didn’t think they were even close—”  _

_ “Well they are, and they’re shagging. And he’s never been happier,” Blaise bit out. Then he reached across the table and grabbed Harry’s drink, chugging the rest of his butterbeer and standing in one fluid moment.  _

_ Then Harry was left alone, completely confused as to what just happened.  _

_ He stared at the empty glasses for a moment before racing after Blaise, pushing through the crowd and into the chilled winter air. He could see Blaise already off in the distance, tracks leading Harry on his path.  _

_ “Zabini! Zabini!” He raced to try to catch up to his long strides, but Harry was nearly a head shorter than Blaise, and already there was a considerable distance between them.  _

_ “BLAISE!” Harry shouted, his voice carrying across the frigid air.  _

_ Blaise stopped dead in his tracks and turned around sharply, rushing forward to close the distance between them. Harry didn’t even get a chance to say anything before Blaise captured his lips in a heated kiss.  _

_ It took Harry by surprise, and the moment was over before he could even kiss him back. Blaise held his shoulder tightly, squeezed once, and left him alone in the cold snow.  _

_ This time, Harry didn’t follow him.  _

* * *

That had been nearly five years ago. Blaise had kissed him and left Hogwarts the next day; he didn’t even graduate. He had left Harry with no explanation. He moved to Italy to live with his mother and never came back. 

Until now. 

Harry had tried to write him letters when he first left, but the school owls would come back with nothing in return. He took the hint, and once he graduated, threw himself into work to try to forget the man. Harry’s sexuality eventually came out to the public, and like he had predicted, the Daily Prophet ran quite the spread. 

No one but Hermione and Draco knew of what had happened between them. Harry had run to her in a state of panic and depression and confessed all through his tears and anger. Hermione had enlisted Draco’s help, but even he was unable to contact Blaise. 

But now he was back and coming to the Burrow. 

Harry suddenly felt the need to be busy with his hands. 

“Molly, can I clean those dishes for you?” Harry asked, not even waiting for an answer before taking the brush and scrubbing the pots. 

Molly flustered beside him, “Harry, dear, you don’t have to wash them by hand, let me—”

“The Grangers are here!” Bill called from the living room. Muffled speech followed that Harry couldn’t hear; it sounded like they were greeting each other. 

Trepidation laced his veins, and his hands shook beneath the water. Please let it be Theo. Please let it be Theo...

“Happy Christmas!” Hermione greeted as she stepped into the kitchen, brushing Floo dust from her sweater. “Harry, what are you doing?” 

Harry ignored her as the tall figure of Blaise Zabini walked in.

His dark eyes instantly cut to Harry. He was even more fit than he had been in school—the years had obviously been kind to him. Harry damned himself for how stupid he must look with his arms beneath the water and oversized sweater hanging off his shoulders. 

“Hey, Potter,” the deep voice that Harry thought about nearly every day said. 

Harry felt tears brim his eyes beneath his glasses, and he whipped back around to the task at hand. He wouldn’t cry. 

Hermione coughed lightly, “Molly, I wonder if you wouldn’t mind helping Draco and I with the presents we brought? And the rest of you too. George I don’t want to know what the galleons are about—” 

Their voices muffled as they left the kitchen. Harry didn’t dare look over his shoulder; he could feel Blaise’s gaze on his back. 

“Happy Christmas,” Blaise said directly behind him, his voice soft. 

Harry only scrubbed the pot harder; he was pretty sure he had cleaned it four times already. 

“Hermione told me, Harry. How hurt you were by my leaving. And I know it doesn’t mean anything, but I’m sorry. My mum, she was… she was dying, and I knew you liked me. I could see it every time I looked at you.” 

Harry’s hands shook harder as Blaise continued talking. 

“But I had to leave to take care of her. I only came back from holiday to collect my stuff and say goodbye to everyone.” A hand gently grabbed his shoulder, but Harry kept scrubbing. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks as Blaise continued. “I wanted to spend that one night with you before I left. I was going to tell you that I was going back to Italy but… I chickened out. I couldn’t do it. And I stole that kiss from you. I had to kiss you, just once. I didn’t think—I didn’t know how strongly you felt.” 

Blaise’s words trailed off, and the hand dropped from Harry’s shoulder. He could feel the heat leave his back as Blaise retreated. 

“Blaise, I—” Harry started but stopped. It was so hard for him to voice his feelings. In frustration, he chucked the pot to the bottom of the sink and turned, his wet hands reaching out to grab an expensive shirt. He didn’t give a damn if the water ruined it; all he wanted was to kiss Blaise. 

Their lips met in a heated exchange, both of them pouring years of unspent feelings into it. It was as perfect as Harry had always imagined as Blaise’s tall figure surrounded him in a cocoon. He threaded his hands through Harry’s unruly hair and tugged, pulling a groan from his lips, while Harry wrapped his arms around Blaise’s neck to pull him closer. 

They pulled apart, panting and searching the other’s eyes. Blaise grinned first, his hands leaving Harry’s hair to cup his face. 

“You know,” Harry whispered as he placed a kiss to Blaise’s thumb. “You never did tutor me in Alchemy. I nearly failed thanks to you.” 

Blaise dropped his hands and gripped Harry’s hips roughly, pulling their bodies flush together as a smirk graced his mouth. “I’ll make it up to you.” 

“How?” 

“Well,” Blaise whispered, trailing his lips across the edge of Harry’s mouth and cheek. “I can tutor you in  _ many  _ other things. And I have a lot of time to make up for.” 

Harry whimpered as Blaise Apparated them directly from the kitchen. It was the best Christmas he ever had. 


End file.
